


infinite intermission.

by seasandsalt



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:27:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29649945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seasandsalt/pseuds/seasandsalt
Summary: things didn’t work out the way he wanted them to.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 49





	infinite intermission.

**Author's Note:**

> goes hand in hand with [can you hear me? i miss you.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29775714)  
> there’s no particular order to read them in.  
> each tell the same story but from a different perspective.   
> they’re left ambiguous for a reason, it’s up to you to decide which story belongs to who.
> 
> slight inspiration taken from teddy hyde’s ‘vanilla curls’

his hands reach for nothing. there’s no one beside him. the space is empty, cold. barren.

he sniffles.

he can’t remember the last time he spent the whole day not in bed. lately, he’s been waking up late in the afternoon and only leaving the confines of his comforter to use the bathroom and maybe grab a snack. he hasn’t been eating much lately.

the nightstand is littered with crumpled granola bar wrappers and crushed plastic water bottles. an empty bottle of acetaminophen reminds him of the dull ache in his head that won’t go away no matter how many painkillers he swallows. 

curtains are drawn over the windows and the room is dark. he doesn’t know what time it is, only that it’s early in the morning. far too early.

the rest of the world is asleep, but he’s laying here, missing the only person in the world he can’t have anymore.

the man he’d let waltz into his life on tip toes.

the man who used to hold him so tightly he felt safer than he ever had before.

the man who would whisper kind words into his ear and make sure he knew he was loved.

the man who used to wash his hair for him when he was too tired to raise his arms.

the man who would smile, so brightly, at him it rivaled the sun.

the man who used to fill up the empty space on the bed.

the man who’d walked out of his life, whispering words of _it’s not over_. 

he knew he’d become too much for his beloved to handle.

_we’re just taking a break._

he was too clingy, too energetic. too needy and caring. too cautious, too ambitious. too scared and too fearless. he was too loving. he’d wrapped his arms tight around his neck and refused to let go and now he is paying the price.

his fingers grip the blanket. 

_i just need some space, that’s all._

his phone lights up with a notification, the millionth missed call from george or karl, wondering where he is. what he is doing. why he isn’t responding to their messages. 

_it’ll be good for the both of us._

he can’t bring himself to look at the screen. he can’t stand the sight of the photo that would stare back at him.

_just give me some time._

his eyes squeeze shut and he feels wet tears cling to his eyelashes. they roll down his face and leave hot streaks in their wake.

_what part of ‘taking a break’ do you not understand?_

his breathing is shallow and his chest hurts. his hands are going numb and he holds the blanket tighter. 

_just- you- stay there!_

a siren wails in the distance.

_this is why we need to do this!_

his mouth is dry and he wants water but the bottles on the nightstand are empty and his legs don’t work. he can’t get out of bed to get a new one. 

_get off me!_

his hands shake. 

_i promise i loved you._

loved.

_part of me always will._

always. 

_but, right now, this isn’t working._

was it ever working?

_i’ll come back to you._

he remembers fighting. yelling at each other over silly things and only forgiving the other when he got down on his knees.

he remembers smashed plates and burnt pancakes. 

he remembers hugs that were a little too tight and kisses pressed to the corner of his mouth. 

he remembers the lack of tears in his lover’s eyes when he’d confronted him that day in his home. 

_i just don’t think we’re ready for each other yet._

he remembers sobbing and pleading and begging for him to stay, only to be met with cold eyes and a colder heart, a hand on his shoulder pushing him away.

_we can both do better than whatever this is._

he’s openly sobbing now. his chest aches and his head hurts and his mouth is dry and his hands are numb and he’s

alone. 

_it isn’t over._

_let’s call it_

_an infinite intermission._

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/seasandsalt)


End file.
